


The greatest bastard

by Augen (grauenaugen)



Series: Let us take this to the end [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Cheating, Cheating Harry Potter, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Grief, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heartbreak, Hurt, M/M, Pining, Pining Harry Potter, Post-Break Up, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grauenaugen/pseuds/Augen
Summary: Harry cheated so Draco left, and now Harry is trapped in the five stages of grief.He rues the morning he saw Draco helping an owl and noticed how pretty the nape of his neck was. He rues the day he discovered how kind and gentle he was with children and thought he would make a good father. He rues the pub night he admitted to himself how hot Draco really was. But he rues the most that party when they decided to hold hands and kiss.This is the aftermath of what happened in the ff "All the way through your bed" when Draco left Harry. They complement each other but can be read independently. I think part 1 is way better but this adds to the story if you want to give it a try.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Original Male Character(s), Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Let us take this to the end [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204124
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	The greatest bastard

**Author's Note:**

> Past and present tense mixed in my ff? it's more likely than you think.
> 
> Hello. English is not my first language and I'm trying to improve so decided to write ffs in English. It was very difficult and basically, my betas are free grammar checkers and ggle translate. I don't know British slang (and haven't read the books in English), but I tried to do my best. 
> 
> Please let me know if you find mistakes so I can fix them/edit and get better! Thank you for reading.

Harry heard about the stages of grief, but never really cared about those things until he is 34-years-old, in his bed awake in the middle of the night looking at the ceiling after the Ministry Hallowe'en Ball thinking ' _It's over. This whole mess with Malfoy is finally over after seven years._ ' 

He feels lighter, freed, unravelled, and realizes it ended a long time ago, he just never cared to notice how healing works. At first, the injuries hurt, then they sting and scars forms. In the end, you forget about it until something reminds you of the old wound, now a part of yourself.

He looks at the letter on the nightstand that has been waiting for a reply for a couple of weeks now. Grief has long gone, hope is all around him. He will send an owl in the morning. A leap of faith. 

_Grief_

But at 27, a month after the breakup, Harry was in a cold wet cave called 12 Grimmauld Place feeling ragged. A grumpy Kreacher muttering " _Master will stay single forever_ ", " _Kreacher thinks Master is drinking too much firewhisky,_ " and " _Master Draco would be ashamed of such behaviour_ ". Harry is certain that a drinking problem is the last thing on the long list of Harry's behaviours Draco would condemn.

"My house-elf is calling me a spinster!" Harry muttered to himself. "I don't want to marry either!" He screams as he walks into the kitchen, not looking for alcohol, he just needs a nice warm cup of tea. There is only earl grey left, Draco's favourite. Well fuck, beer it is.

Who is he kidding? Harry isn't okay and it only gets worse the next day when he finds out Draco delivered his resignation letter the same day he packed all his stuff and left their home. Something deep inside Harry, something tangled since he was an 11-year-old boy in Diagon Alley for the first time, tells him Draco is gone for good.

_1) Denial_

After Draco disapparated from their home — _his_ home now—, Harry drank all the alcohol in the house, luckily there wasn't much left. The next afternoon, after waking up feeling and smelling like shit, he thinks ' _Draco will come back, he just needs to listen'_. They aren't broken and Grimmauld is not home without Draco. They are not over.

Deputy Head Auror Harry Potter would say apparating while drunk is a dangerously stupid move that greatly increases the risk of splinching, especially if you don't like to do it when sober. But Harry is not sober yet and one more stupid decision doesn't make a difference. Two more, since he misses work. _Again_.

He easily passes through the ancient wards of Malfoy Manor, meaning Draco hasn't erased his magical signature yet. There is hope. He almost knocks down the doors when a very displeased Lucius Malfoy opens them, Narcissa close behind him. Malfoy Manor doors are enchanted to swings open at the approach of a welcomed person, but they've never done that for Harry even after four years dating the heir. Not that he expects otherwise.

He asks for Draco, screaming his name again and again. Okay, maybe he is more than a little bit drunk.

Narcissa looks him in the eye and says Draco hasn't visited them in two weeks and demands to know what is going on with her son. A sober Harry would have kept the story short: ' _we broke up_ ' or ' _he left_.' Drunk, sad Harry tells the parents of his boyfriend that he cheated. Good grief.

After years of Lucius explicitly stating that he is against their relationship, Harry expected the man would sing, tap dance or throw a previously organized party for when his only son ' _comes to senses and leaves The Boy Who Lived_ '. He did not expect being manhandled by an angry Malfoy senior.

"How dare you hurt my son, Potter?" His pale face flushed with anger and his voice low, dragging the syllables. "You're going to pay for this."

Harry can't help it and snicker at the absurdity of the situation, but again, too much firewhisky and beer still in his system to keep himself quiet. This is not the time or the place.

Narcissa stops her husband by firmly placing a hand on his forearm. Lucius let go of Harry and walks in the house shouting, his voice fading into the depths of the manor, but Harry can hear some of the ranting and loose words: " _crook_ ", " _killed him in the Department of Mysteries_ ", " _gave up having grandchildren_ ", " _Malfoy's heirs_ ". Nonsense. _"He doesn't deserve Draco_ ". Astounding, Lucius and Harry agree on something.

He stands there, disarrayed, focusing on the woman. Harry begs her.

"Please, Narcissa, where is Draco? Please, let me see him."

She is quiet for a minute then asks what happened, in detail. If that's what she needs to guide him to Draco, he would take her rage too. Lucius? doesn't care, he wasn't afraid of him at 12 he isn't at 27. Narcissa on the other hand... after all these years he cares about her, he likes to think she cares about him too.

He says it was all his fault, a stupid mistake, the bloke meant nothing. Draco left without a word, he took everything with him. He needs to find him, can't live without him. 

"Please, Narcissa, just tell me where he is."

The woman stands in front of him, her light grey robes making her look like a statue. Harry thinks she looks taller and older than ever, wiser even, and it sends chills down his spine. She delicately places her hands on his chest, flattening the wrinkles Lucius left on his t-shirt.

"If you come near Draco again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do." She says very calmly, looking him straight in the eye. "I trusted you my only son, Harry Potter."

"I love him."

"I love him more."

The wards of the manor crushed him and he apparated home.

12 Grimmauld Place is empty, cold and gloomy. Ironically, at the same time is cosy, and he hates it for that, for being the same house he transformed at 18 when Hermione and Ron moved in with him. For being the same house where he fell in love with Draco. The house is the same, yes, but it's also mournful like him. Harry needs to bring Draco back. They are not over.

The next day he misses work again and goes straight to Pansy's apartment. Draco is there. Or was, since her eyes are shooting daggers and Blaise has to grab her around the waist so she doesn't physically attack him.

"I will end you, Potter. You, Granger and all your bloody Weasleys. Even Lupin."

He growls. Not Teddy and not in the mood to deal with Pansy's shit, not even in a good day.

"Let me see him. DRACO! Draco, please."

Things start to tinkle around the apartment and in any other context Pansy would've been anxious, scared even — Potter defeated You-Know-Who, he is powerful—. But she is a Slytherin and you don't mess with their friends, not when they are loved as much as Pansy loves Draco.

"He is not here," Blaise says slowly, jaw clenched. "You can look for yourself". Pansy aims her wand at Harry's neck.

"Put half a foot inside my home, Potter, and I will end what Voldemort couldn't."

She could try a thousand times without succeeding once.

"I'm terrified," Harry says sarcastically. "You don't scare me, Parkinson. I love him. Now please, tell me where I can find him."

"You love him?" She huffs. "Try to remember that before shagging someone else." Pansy slams the door in his face, smacking his nose and sending his glasses flying. A second later he feels the wards.

After days of missing work and stalking around Malfoy Manor and Pansy's flat, he decides to talk with Hermione and Ron. His friends can help, perspective and all that. They are not over.

"Oh, Harry! I was so worried. Ron said you didn't go to work all week! We send owls and your floo was closed."

Not all week! He was there today. Robards was _delighted_ to see him after "finally acknowledging you have a job, Deputy Head Auror Potter," before reprimanding him for an hour.

Harry looks at them talking in that voiceless way couples do that bothers him so much. He and Draco used to make fun of it until they realized they did it too.

"I'll leave you for Pansy if you talk to me with your eyes ever again, Potter".

"You communicate that way with Pansy since you were 15, how is that different?"

"She's my best friend and we can't talk shit about people in front of them since you said it's not nice and can hurt people's feelings. The thing is, I don't share a house or a bed with her. I don't need to also share my mind with you."

"I am really glad you don't share a bed with her," Harry replied before kissing him again, every part of his body.

He wants that back.

"How do you know? Stop doing that! Just tell me."

Ron sighs. "He told mom..."

"He told Molly that I fucked someone else?!" He screams in disbelieve.

"Harry, you fucked someone else? You cheated on Draco?" Hermione is standing now, palms on the table, looking wide-eyed and confused.

"I..." He feels ashamed and a tiny voice in the depths of his mind wishes his friends were happy about the break-up, but apparently no one is. Him least of all.

"Bloke or bird?"

"RONALD! What difference does it make?" Hermione says without breaking eye contact with Harry. Worst than the Wizengamot.

"Er... bloke... umm, Walsh."

"From work? Really, Harry? He's awful!" Hermione finally sits down, eyebrows raised and something else in her voice Harry couldn't quite catch, concern or maybe disappointment. She disliked Walsh since the beginning for no particular reason.

"Is he in St Mungo?" Ron asks still holding his cup close to his mouth, hand frozen and not a sign of mockery in his voice.

"No. He didn't do anything. He just...walked away."

" _Oh._ " 

Hermione and Ron's faint sound is the last proof that he fucked up completely. Harry dropped his head on the table, still hearing to his best friends doing the wordless communication thing. They can't be over.

Harry would like to say he didn't want to fuck Walsh and his perky ass. That he didn't enjoy it while it lasted, that he didn't come in Walsh's mouth in his office before apparating home, but he would be lying. He would like to say that he was drunk or under _amortentia_ , tired or after a fight with Draco, but he wasn't. Walsh had been teasing and flirting with him since day one and it wasn't about being The Chosen One, Harry hates that. Walsh wanted _him_. Harry was shy at first, ignoring him for a long time... two years.

But apparently, he has a weakness for sarcastic blonds and he likes the game, the pull and push. Walsh is good at that. Hands casually touching, snarky comments, flirtations that seem like a trivial conversation about the weather, eyes piercing him in the dressing room, tongue casually licking things. Trying to flirt with Draco.

Everyone discovered Harry was a little bit of the jealous type one night at the pub when Pansy suggested a game of truth or dare. Ginny asked Draco if he had a thing for black-haired, fair-eyed guys because he was always saying he doesn't have a type and if he did, it would _never_ be Potter. He answered that and the Slytherins lose it.

"Still in denial? You will break Theo's heart." Pansy said.

"Oh no, remember Draco was the heartbroken one," Blaise added while hugging Ginny, his girlfriend at the time.

Even Greg joined the joke with a "Maybe Harry is the black-haired fair-eyed _rebound_ ".

He didn't like that. Draco looked annoyed, his friends who kept laughing, now joined by the Gryffindors and Luna, especially Ginny who was enjoying the outcome of her innocent question. Harry knows her too much and can't really believe it, she's the third twin after all. Ron was confused as Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass were married and very much straight.

"Although she is blonde..." Ron pointed out.

"I didn't know that, please tell us how Theodore Nott broke your heart," Harry asked, a little uncomfortable but trying to keep his smile. How dare he break Draco's heart?

"Don't. Greg and I shared the dorm with him and he was sulking all the time, folding paper birds as he does when he is sad and in love. At one point we couldn't enter our room without being hit by a flying paper crane."

"Blaise is right, but the most embarrassing part was that Theo shared that room too," Greg said with tears in his eyes.

Harry loves Draco's weird passion for origami and he always disliked that childhood friendship with Nott because they were never as close as the Slytherin anecdotes seem to indicate. For a long time, Harry thought they weren't even friends... until they meet in the same room sharing inside childhood jokes Harry never understands.

That day, he discovered Nott and Draco hooked-up on and off for years. The first time until Daphne finally accepted to date Theo, who was in love with her since Merlin-knows-when and 15-year-old Draco got depressed for a month. Then they got back together at 18 until Daphne gave Theo a second chance, leaving Draco sad and alone again.

That night, Harry asked him what they did and took note to reenact everything, in the same places when possible, to show him "whose dick you love more", Draco loved the dirty talk because Harry would say it but get shy after. One night he transfigured their bedroom into one that looked almost exactly like the Slytherin's dorms and wore Draco's tie for their mutual delight.

So when Walsh started commenting on "how handsome, fit and intelligent Curse-Breaker Malfoy is", Harry wasn't happy, but couldn't deny how hot it was. And then he started flirting with Draco who didn't even look in his direction. And that was hotter.

Somewhere in between Draco and Harry's foreplays in public places, Walsh realized Harry likes it when people —Draco— licks on things, and he made sure Harry knew how good he was at it. Everything very innocent for two years until that fateful day. 

They were tired from a case, dirty and sweaty, some disgusting green slimy potion in their robes and half the Auror department trying to take shower. Harry sat in the dressing room, uniform still on, waiting for a spared cubicle when an almost naked Walsh walked in front of him with hunger in his eyes. Harry grabbed his things and went looking for Draco, they've had quickies in the loo before and he was more than half-hard, but Draco wasn't in his office, so Harry returned to his own. 

"A quick silencing charm will do, no one has to know." 

Once inside, spell already cast, he found Walsh waiting on his knees under the table. It felt good. _So_ good. After that, he took him home and fucked him. Draco walked into their room just as Walsh moaned and Harry opened his eyes to find him frozen, all colour drained from his face.

"I'll change later, then." The only thing he said before taking the stairs. Walsh disapparated a second later and Harry never felt so much self-hatred. He dressed quickly and found Draco silently stirring his mug, resting his weight on the kitchen table, looking at Harry like he was a stranger.

Harry felt like Draco was far away.

They always fought, they always yelled at each other. Harry likes to say _fight_ because it encapsulates their whole history but at that point they only argued. The real fights were reserved for when Harry did something stupid and dangerous at work "because you think you're immortal," Draco used to say.

But the Draco in front of him was calm, with a blank expression taught by his father at a young age.

"Draco."

"He left?" Harry nodded. "I'll be at my studio." He didn't answer the door and Harry was sure he cast a silencing charm, he felt it. The damn house felt it.

By morning Draco was out. He saw him the next day at the Ministry and the blond ignored him. Walsh apologized to Draco, —brave or stupid, Harry couldn't decide— and the only answer he got was a raised brow that meant something along the lines of ' _you and your bloodline can fry in hell'._

The third day, in the middle of a reunion with Robards, Harry felt the urgent need to go back to Grimmauld, so he did. Draco was leaving for good. But they can't be over, right?

If Hermione and Ron didn't know where Draco was, then Molly would. She sat him with a tea and pie and repeated what Draco told her: they broke-up on mutual agreement and apologized for not being able to take her to Bordeaux as he promised.

Molly looks at his unwashed face, stubble, red puffy eyes and holds Harry close while he cries in the arms of his second mother figure.

"Molly, it can't be over. We were happy, we've been through so much. It can't be over, I need to bring him back and he is nowhere. Molly, I need him back, it can't be over." He repeats again and again.

He never told her what actually happened, but she must have guessed because she gave him the most unlike-Harry advice: don't fight back, not yet.

"I know you can't avoid trying to fix things, Harry Potter, but trust me on this one."

So Harry takes all his willpower and keeps his head down, buys flowers and chocolates that go bad in his office and gives Draco space because Molly knows better.

A month later, Draco was no longer working for the Ministry and Blaise —the only Slytherin that was still talking to him, although barely— told him Draco left the country. For good. "Now leave him alone."

Maybe they were over.

The first six months without Draco, Harry feels terrible, looks dreadful and spend all his waking hours working, to the point Robards 'suggests' a month off. Molly takes him to The Burrow, feeds him and tells him Draco might not be coming back. 

"But Harry, you're an adult and actions have consequences, you know that better than anyone."

When his month is due, he moves back to Grimmauld. Kreacher almost looks happy to see him again and Harry is back on his feet again, doing his job, visiting friends and Teddy, avoiding Walsh like the plague but keeping it professional.

It's over.

_2) Bargaining_

The next time he sees Draco is a year later, at Neville and Luna's wedding.

He is in the middle of the impressive Lovegood-Longbottom backyard: all tall, perfect tailor-made grey robes, dark grey pants and longer hair, as soft looking as always.

He tries to keep his distance, the blond is clearly ignoring him, but his eyes keep wandering to him like a moth drawn to the light. Or like Harry drawn to Draco, as it has always been.

Luna and Draco became friends after the war because that's Luna, she doesn't hold grudges. But no one knew about Draco's whereabouts, that's what Pansy, Blaise, Greg and even Theo bloody Nott said. Then again, why did he trust Slytherins? Pansy is right there next to him, holding his arm like a lifesaver. As if he might vanish anytime.

Draco is back, still a friend of their friends, and maybe it was over but they could try again. Right? Harry just needs to show him how much he has missed him, how much he loves him, how much he has changed. Promise him that he would never cheat again. Promise him whatever he needs: a binding magical contract or an unbreakable vow. Everything. _Anything_.

He casts a disillusionment charm and waits for Draco to be alone. He follows him to the bathroom and pushes him inside casting a _muffliato_.

Not a metre away, Draco Malfoy stands looking as beautiful as ever, if not more, Harry thinks.

"Potter, this is not a public toilet."

"Where have you been? I have been worried! Scared that something could happen to you and no one would know."

The blond looks him in the eye and Harry knows that face. Draco is thinking, pondering what to say. Harry can almost hear him in between a flight or fight response, he is ready for both reactions. But Draco just sighs, crossing his arms in his chest and leaning against the wall.

"I am good. Working in the continent. Here to see my parents, friends and the happy couple before this house is overflowing with Fanged Geranium, Venomous Tentacula, Fire Salamanders and Streelers. I'm confident I saw a Fwooper flapping around the trees."

"Draco, I miss you," Harry says cutting off the Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures curriculum.

"Good. I don't."

It hurts like a bastard. But this is it, the opportunity he's been waiting for.

"Draco, please, let's talk. I've missed you to pieces. I'll do anything to get you back. I can fight for you, I want to, please let's talk. We've been through worst!"

Draco chuckles at that but tries to conceal it, Harry's stomach flutters just with that sound. Hope.

"I would change it, you have to believe me. Let's talk. Tomorrow, you chose the place."

Draco shakes his head softly and looks at him fondly, which hurts so much more. He would exchange that look for a _sectumsempra_ , bathrooms are good for that. Draco chooses to do worse.

"I met someone, Harry."

After what seemed like an eternity, Draco motions his fingers and says that he really needs to use the loo.

Harry takes a step back, smile and before closing the door behind him says, "Oh, right. That's great. Sorry to bother you." Trying not to sound fake or broken.

He looks for Ron who hands him a beer, puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and minutes later announces Draco is gone.

_3) Depression_

Harry can handle this. He defeated Voldemort. He came back from the dead. He can handle a break-up.

Draco already met someone new. Someone who will run his fingers through the soft strands of white-blond hair. Draco always said he did not want to have long hair because it would remind him of his father but now he has a boyfriend, long hair, lives in another country and has forgotten about Harry.

So what? He can meet new people too. That's how everything started: bantering in the hallways of the Ministry, dancefloors and loud music, drinks and strobe lights colouring Draco's paleness. He knows how o flirt. He can meet a woman or a man, maybe muggles, they don't care about who he is nor what's on his forehead, he could say someone dropped him as a baby and that's it. Vernon surely did at some point. Yes, he will do that.

Harry rejects every invitation to pub nights. Maybe not right now. The plenty more fish in the sea can wait. Doesn't mean he's not fine. Harry is fine.

He spends his time between work and home. Make excuses to avoid Sunday lunch at The Burrow and late-night drinks at Hermione and Ron's. He found out that Kreacher can go to Gringotts for him and get groceries too, plus the house is full of fascinating projects like cleaning the library by hand or moving the furniture around. He even asked for cold cases to work from home during his spare time.

The months go by quickly and he's fine, Harry thinks trying to read _Flying with the Cannons_ for the thousandth time, ignoring the sound of the clock hands that live in his head and that sometimes - just sometimes - haunt him. 

He doesn't think about Draco, doesn't enter his study, doesn't drink earl grey even though he hates it. The smell of citrus, ink and parchment doesn't make him sad, he doesn't smell their blanket.

Then another year goes by and Blaise and Pansy's wedding comes.

Why everyone is getting married, anyway? Relationships end and everything that was yours is strange to you. Everything is too big, too cold, too unfamiliar. Everything dies, love dies. Do people really think a big party and fancy formal robes, three hundred guests and a big wedding cake can change that? A magical bond? Please, it's not like they cannot be broken. The whole charade must be some curse breakers plan to get good money from innocent people. Good thing he wasn't invited. If he and Draco were still together he would have been. Luckily he hates weddings, since now, especially weddings full of that pureblood traditions' crap.

Unfortunately, Ginny was invited, since she and Blaise stayed friends after dating a few years ago. Bad thing Harry goes next day to the Sunday Weasley Family Lunch and very casually, while reading The Daily Prophet with the many pages dedicated to the Slytherin happy couple and their dream wedding, Harry asks:

"How was it? I mean, Blaise is famous for his somewhat good looks and Pansy has grown from the pug face she had when dating Draco. She has great taste, probably looked beautiful, right? Were their families present? Half of our generation's Slytherins must have attended."

"Harry..." she sighs, resting the salad on the big table outside The Burrow where he is sitting. Hermione sighs too but kept talking with Victoire and Teddy. 

"Ginny ..." he says nonchalantly, imitating the tone in her voice. She rolls her eyes and chews her lower lip before answering.

"You know he was Pansy's best man."

"Oh. I didn't know. Um... I mean, I don't know who you mean." He feels pathetic. "He's not in the pictures and they definitely spent a lot of money, the owners of The Daily Prophet must be delighted. Six pages? Really? It's not a royal wedding!"

Ginny looks at him with pity and sits next to him, resting a reassuring hand on his knee.

"He has an Italian boyfriend. He looked... happy. Harry, just let go, it's been two years. He is not coming back."

A boyfriend. Italian. Does he have a moustache, a red cap, and wear dungarees too? He swallows and his throat feels tight.

"How does he look like?" His voice is shaky and very quiet.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione squeaks from across the table. The two girls exchange worried looks. "Ginny, don't tell him."

"Hermione, you know him, he will look for answers somewhere else!" 

Ginny looks him in the eye with a defiant look, trying to confirm if he really wants to know what he is asking, if he really understands that is a bad idea. He nods.

"What do you want to know? Handsome? Very. Nice? Yes, all smiles, hugs and two kisses. Do they seem in love?" She stops talking and looks at him thoughtfully. "Yes. They can't take their eyes off each other and they are always touching. It's time to move on, Harry. It's no good crying over spilt potion." 

She sounds worried, fed up, troubled. She evidently didn't want to deliver the news. Nonetheless, Ginny kiss his forehead and leaves him alone with Hermione. Ginny is a good friend and she doesn't want to see him locked up, hiding, putting his life on hold for a mistake.

"She's right. You know that?" Hermione says softly as trying not to rub salt on the wound but making it clear enough for him to understand. 

Harry is not bad. He is not depressed, moping around every corner and he's definitely not hiding. He is doing his job better than ever, Robards said. He started running in the mornings, he is cooking again, listening to punk music from the 80s inherited from Sirius and cranking the volume full-blast. Fortunately, his muggle neighbours cannot find his house or they would be calling the police every day for disturbing noises. Sure, he hasn't been looking for a date and he hasn't slept with anyone in two years, but that's because the last time he did his life went down the drain.

However, the house isn't as cold as the year before and although Kreacher keeps turning the music volume down, he stopped muttering " _Master Harry would die alone._ " Sometimes he enters the blue room, sits in the middle of the floor and stays there for an hour, but not as much as at the beginning. Now it's once a month if that, and their blanket stays there. He doesn't drink when he's sad, it's not worth it, it gave him headaches and Draco was so peculiar about his beverages that it's better to avoid it completely. He is expending most of his time training —endorphins are good, Hermione always says—, Ron is a great partner. He painted the kitchen in a rich green that even Kreacher approved. He's been taking more photographs with his muggle camera to fill the spaces left by the ones Draco kidnapped. 

But maybe Ginny and Hermione are right. They usually are. People break up, is normal. Everything starts and ends, flowers bloom and die. He knows about death and rebirth.

In the beginning, no one bet even a knut on them. The Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeper made sure that the general public looked at them with scorn for a year. They didn't make a big deal after the break-up, surely thanks to Pansy's Witch Weekly editor-in-chief status and Blaise's lawyer firm. They were doomed to fail, everyone knew.

Spring came and he felt lighter, better, the brighter days and blooming flowers help keep his good mood. Park days with Teddy and Andromeda's handmade cookies made him happy and he began to go out more, resuming activities he had neglected, like visiting friends, going to the bank or walking around the wizarding district.

Until he saw Draco at a bistro in the middle of Diagon Alley. Intertwined fingers over the table with a handsome man's hand. Clean face, maybe a somewhat stylish haircut, relaxed button-up shirt and well-fitted pants. A big smile that says ' _nothing else matters besides the beautiful man in front of me_ '. Brown hair, brown eyes, little lines around his eyes and mouth, he must laugh a lot. The man tells something and Draco chuckles while eating a cupcake, quickly licking the frosting from his mouth. Dammit.

Harry, like the idiot he is, feels compelled to walk towards them, the thread that ties him to Draco still present. Eventually, his brain decided to work and stopped him, but it happened too late and Draco had already seen him.

He looks happy. Harry smile back and the man turns in his direction, following his boyfriend's gaze.

"That's Harry Potter, isn't he?" A noticeable Italian accent.

"He is," Draco says. Harry waves his hand awkwardly. He would exchange his Gringott's vault for being just a Harry in the middle of the street, unknown to the wizarding world.

The man stands up, shakes his hand and pull him for two kisses, pats him on the back (strong man and shorter than him, Harry notices) and says, "Thank you for your bravery, everyone in Italy knows about you."

Of course they do, dammit. The man smiles again and invites him to sit with them, the friendly bastard. Is it too much to ask for an easy to hate arse?

Harry decline. "Sorry. Busy. Auror's life." 

Because forgetting how to form complete sentences in front of your ex and his new boyfriend makes you look good. He walks away quickly, hands in his pocket, and apparates back to Grimmauld Place. He sits on the sofa and tries to remember how to breathe.

"He's fine. More than okay. He has a handsome Italian boyfriend. He is all smiles and happy with stupidly long hair that enhances his handsome features inherited from the Black family."

The house creaks and Kreacher peek from the corridor.

"Yeah, thought you'd like to know. He is not coming back so we better forget about him right now." No sound, no movement, no nothing. "You are stuck with me, both of you. And I deserve to move on."

Kreacher disapparates with a loud crack and the house creaks again. Well someone's in a bad mood.

"Oh sod off."

He summons the firewhisky and fire-calls Hermione.

"Saw him in Diagon Alley," he said without a hello. Hermione looks confused for a beat and then tries to smile, but her lips are pressed in a thin line.

"And?"

"Happy with a boyfriend."

"You knew that."

' _No shit, Hermione, of course I knew that but it's different to see it with my own two eyes and being hugged by the git who's fucking my ex._ ' He bites his tongue.

"Can I have Ron, please?" He says instead, looking defeated.

She nods, understanding what Harry needs now —not talking about feelings, that is—, and moves away from the fire, allowing him to step inside the Granger-Weasley living room. Ron gestures to the garden while Harry kiss Hermione's forehead and she hugs him until breathing becomes difficult. Harry realizes how much he has missed them.

_4) Anger_

That week was strange, to say the least, but something changed. Harry _can_ move on. Can shag someone else. Can date a handsome man or beautiful woman and not cheat again, ever. Can be happy again. 

He can get a smart, funny boyfriend or girlfriend who knows how to make discussions annoying and fun at the same time. Someone who wants to know all of him, the good parts and the dark hidden parts, who wants to meet the scared little boy that lives within him when the nightmares come, even if they rarely do anymore.

Yes, something changed. 

And then something _clicked_.

Draco fights. He was never easy. _They_ were never easy.

They didn't solve their problems by braiding their hair and singing songs.

They fought and learned to talk. They yelled and learned to argue without hurting. Sometimes they stopped speaking. Sometimes they were so angry that they just let the snitch fly away and played a seeker's game insulting each other's abilities like teenagers. They would order different takeout, not sharing, and would sit in the kitchen, Kreacher muttering how ridiculous they were as they ate in silence until one passed the salt or took a bite of the other's food.

And they always, always, _always_ went to bed together and held hands in the dark. They always kissed good night, even when they weren't talking. Even if the kiss was followed by a 'prat', 'git', 'scarhead' or 'ferret'.

Draco fights. The war taught him not to let anyone decide for him ever again. He fought the media when they tried to break them apart —and at the time he still believed he was not good enough for Harry—, but he fought back. Nobody believed they could do it, but they kept trying, over and over again. That's the Draco he knows. That's the Draco he fell in love with.

So why Draco didn't fight back then? He just left.

Harry wanted to fight for them and didn't. Why?

Something was missing. The thought hunted him for weeks.

Charlie takes the large pot and walks outside followed by the levitating cutlery and children jumping trying to catch some spoon or glass, leaving Harry and Molly alone in the kitchen finishing Sunday lunch. Harry is clenching the knife too hard, making his knuckles white. Mouth dry, chest tight. But he needs to ask the question that popped into his head that day. He needs that to move on.

"Molly."

"Yes, love?" She says absentmindedly before turning, noticing Harry's worried face. She sits beside him and presses her hand over his, moving the knife and poorly cut carrots away. 

"Molly, I have something to ask you and I need the truth." She nodded.

"Did Draco... did he ask you to convince me to leave him alone? To not fight for him?" For _us_ , he wants to say.

Molly Weasley has many faces, Harry knows. The sweet one that helps confused, lonely and lost children in train stations. The loving mother and the strict-mom. Grandmother Molly. The carefree Molly who sings and dance to Celestina Warbeck's songs. The brave, strong, fierce Molly who took down Bellatrix Lestrange. The one who lost a son and still remembers him with smiles and love, not sorrow, because Fred wouldn't have wanted that.

Now he meets silent Molly, eyes a mix of love, sadness and apologies. And Harry must be making some kind of face because she also looks hurt and repentant.

"You told me not to fix it!" Eyes full of tears wanting to run down his face. "You... you should be on my side!" His voice cracked.

"I am. You are a son to me, Harry, but that man." She stops talking and bites her lower lip as Ginny and George do when thinking. "The man that sat with me that early morning with hollow eyes was broken. He left his Malfoy pride aside and cried in front of a Weasley... I don't know what happened, but please try to understand. I couldn't refuse!"

Draco went to The Burrow and cried in her arms. He didn't even tell his own mother and Harry knows how much he loves Narcissa.

Harry loves Molly too, as a mother. But not today. Yesterday? Yes. Tomorrow? Definitely. But today he stands up and leaves without a word.

Bloody Malfoy. The git. The absolute bastard.

Draco knew Harry would fight for him, for _them_ , and he planned not to let it happen. He gave up on them at the first mistake. A huge one, Harry knows, but a mistake nonetheless. They are made of mistakes. They are strong because of them.

Harry isn't sad anymore, he's livid. Angry at Draco who was a coward and abandoned everything they built together. Who burned everything to ashes, who left them to die. Harry would have tried to save them, to heal them.

"You know what? I screw up but he ran away!"

He screams to the house, breaking all the glasses in the kitchen and some mirror upstairs. His glasses too. Luckily he has a spare pair Draco bought for him, naturally. Tomorrow he will buy a new pair, a new mirror, a couple of glasses, he doesn't need so many, he lives alone.

That night he puts down every photograph of the two of them Malfoy left behind. He wants to vanish every single one of them, but that would be too kind. He walks to the blue room, Draco's old study, and throws them over their blanket. No, just _a_ blanket now. He wants to burn everything with _fiendfyre_ and the only thing that stops him is that it would destroy 12 Grimmauld Place and Sirius and other members of the Order are part of the house. Maybe tearing them by hand will give him some gratification. His fingers tickle, something runs through his veins and he just can't bring himself to do it. He can't. He can't. He can't.

He rues the morning he saw him helping a lost and injured young owl inside the Ministry and took care of delivering the letters. He rues that he decided to follow him —because old habits die hard— and noticed how pretty the nape of his neck was. He rues the afternoon the Aurors —always competing with the Curse Breakers— decided to pry their training and he noticed how strong his forearms looked. He rues the day he discovered how kind and gentle he was with children and he thought he would make a very good father. He rues that stupid pub night when the strobe lights only shined for him and he noticed hipbones, arms, neck and tiny arse, having to admit to himself that Draco was, in fact, hot. But he rues the most the Hallowe'en party at Grimmauld Place when he found Draco hiding in the darkness of the kitchen and they decided to hold hands and kiss.

Harry sits there, throws his head into his hands and cries until his breath is weary.

The next morning he looks in the mirror and mutters to himself "I love him and I hate myself. I love him and I hate him so much. I love him but I will live my life now."

Pig is waiting inside his office, feathers around the table and some folders on the floor. The little over-excited owl flies to his shoulder and nibs his earlobe before Harry can untie the package from his feet. Leftover treacle tart from yesterday and a letter signed as _R. & H._ His best friends were worried after he left The Burrow without saying goodbye.

He sets the pastry aside. It smells as good as always, surely baked by Molly. He's still a little mad, but sod it, he will dance the feeling away as he hasn't done in years. Malfoy can fuck himself.

He scribbles a little note in a piece of parchment and sends Pig back.

' _I'm okay now. Let's go dancing, Friday night, 9 PM, usual place? Tell everybody._ '

Which means Ginny, Luna, Neville, Dean and Seamus.

That Friday, while Ginny is dancing to Muggle pop music in the middle of the dance floor with Seamus and Dean, Hermione is giving worried glances in his direction.

"Harry, something happened between you and Molly?"

Really? Hermione wants to do this in the middle of his ' _Big I-Hate-Draco-Malfoy & I-Am- Single-Again Girls and Boys Friday Night Dance Party_'? Not that anyone knows what this sudden need for a pub night is. And of course she does, she's been worried and he loves her for that. She knows him too well.

"Dra- Malfoy asked her to tell me not to fix things. I could have done it. I am not angry at her... I am angry with myself for not trying and for pining after a guy who walked away at the first mistake!"

"It was kind of a big mistake, though..." Neville says next to Ron drinking a red cocktail.

"Oh, c'mon, this is not the..." 

"Boss! Glad to see you back!" Walsh cuts him off, grinning in some very tight dragon-hire pants and a white t-shirt. Merlin's saggy balls.

"Yes, but he's with us!" Hermione replies putting a protective arm around Harry's back. She _really_ dislikes Walsh. The blond Auror is smart and gets the message, not that he cares.

"That's nice! Good to see you back too, Deputy Minister Granger." He looks at Harry and winks, "I'll be on the dancefloor."

His perky ass, which Harry has avoided looking at for two years, is just like he remembers. He keeps his eyes on Walsh, first dancing alone and then with different guys. The hot son of a Bludger.

"Harry James Potter, I swear to Merlin, if you go home with Walsh I will never talk to you again," Hermione says pinching the bridge of her nose while Ron tries to not get involved. 

"What? I am not doing anything!"

"The place it's full of people! You really want to shag the one who...? _You know_."

Destroyed his relationship? That's was all Harry's fault. And Draco's, now it's Draco's fault too.

"You know what? I do, Mione. Because I'm single and you told me to forget about Malfoy. So I will. Starting now."

He drains his beer and walks to the dancefloor where Walsh receives with open arms, keeping him very close until they are in the bathroom and his lovely mouth is doing great things to Harry's prick, again. Fuck Malfoy, the bloody runaway.

Hermione left after that and refused to speak to him for two weeks in a row until Ron locked them in her office.

"You will stay in there and solve your problems! Hermione, you can't tell Harry who to... you know. And Harry... Walsh again? Really, mate? Now, I'll leave you alone for a minute and when I get back, you better be best friends again."

"Ronald, I have a meeting with The Society for the Tolerance of Vampires in an hour."

"Ron, Robards will fire me!"

"Better hurry then!"

After an hour and a half, laughs and maybe a little cry in the middle, they were speaking again.

Shagging Walsh became a regular thing. It's casual and absolutely feelings free, everything Harry needs at the moment. Walsh flirts with everybody and their brothers and fathers, but his affairs never interfere with his performance at work and Harry appreciates that. The blond even encourages him to meet new people. 

Sex with Walsh is never soft, never calm, never loving. They never make love. It's always quick, urgent, hard, and if Harry is completely honest, sometimes he shags him with contained emotions. Some tastes like vindication, some like a getaway, some like betrayal, but that one only happened the first times. It wasn't nice, he stayed looking at the kitchen floor at 3 am for an hour after coming back home thinking he's a piece of shit. Those days Kreacher didn't put the kettle on for him, he is thankful for that.

But most of the time, their sex is great, amazing even ( ~~but not the best~~ ). They have fun for a while, then he or Walsh meet someone new and stop seeing each other, no explanations needed. They are compatible in bed and if their one-night stand is followed by a work meeting the next morning, Walsh grins a lot and says seemingly innocent phrases that sound incredibly dirty when no one can hear, a talent Harry greatly appreciates but Cameron, Walsh auror partner, not so much.

Harry doesn't take the people he meets to Grimmauld anymore, Walsh included. Especially Walsh. He usually goes back to his house in the middle of the night, but sometimes he's too tired after work and Walsh lets him stay. Those days he always arrives late at work as he must run home, shower and grab a quick bite. Besides that, everything is good, easy, no strings attached fun.

Except when he's running late and Draco Malfoy is in the meeting room, sitting across from Harry, shoulder-length blonde hair, perfect posture, and impeccable robes.

That's unexpected and Harry's breakfast agrees since it keeps making weird sounds inside his stomach. Walsh, who can't be a Hufflepuff because he's clearly the worst Slytherin he's ever met (and he met Voldemort), is all smiles as if it is an ordinary Wednesday. It is. Draco's sudden presence doesn't change anything.

Malfoy, as to be expected, doesn't even acknowledge Harry's presence. His eyes are fixed on Robards, taking notes in his perfect penmanship with... a muggle pencil and a notebook? Maybe Kreacher finally tried to kill him this morning by putting something in his bacon because Malfoy loves ink and parchment, he had a predilected brand and even smells them, which is completely bonkers in his opinion, but Ron says Hermione does it too.

"Since is an international investigation..."

Ah yes, the briefing, Harry is Deputy Auror and Robards is talking about... something.

"As an employee of the International Confederation of Wizards, Curse-Breaker Malfoy has been tracking the dark objects. The French Ministry and MACUSA already sent..."

So Draco has a great job travelling around the world. Harry thought he lived in Italy. Maybe his boyfriend is a curse-breaker too, maybe they broke up... not that he cares. He doesn't. Malfoy is in the past.

"Walsh and Cameron, you'll be in charge of stealth and tracking. Mr Malfoy will give you all the details, I am sure you will work well together."

The world hates Harry Potter. What's new? People's been trying to kill him since he was one.

"Deputy Head Auror Potter will be in direct charge of the operation. Any doubts, Aurors?"

' _Yes. Is it possible that my ex doesn't work with the guy I shagged last night?_ '

Malfoy takes his pencil and notebook and heads for the curse-breakers wing.

"Awkward much?" Walsh says with a smirk later, bringing Harry a coffee. Really, how is he a Hufflepuff? The Sorting Hat must be senile.

"What?"

"Boss..." He says calmly, then sighs and shakes his head. "Whatever. Cameron and I will speak with Curse-Breaker Malfoy now. Care to join us?"

"Later, have to finish something first."

Meaning ' _we shouldn't arrive together_ ' and ' _I don't want to be there_ '. But also ' _fuck Malfoy, I'll get there when I can, I am a very busy man_."

Harry doesn't really care about Malfoy and his beautiful soft hair that —thanks to Merlin's favourite fluffy bathrobe— doesn't make him look like Lucius at all. That being said, he goes to the bathroom, tries to tame his hair (with unfortunate results, what's new?), brushes his teeth with a quick spell and unbuttons the collar of his uniform. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Harry mutters to himself. 

Malfoy's office is almost empty, one table has different objects —some familiar, some unknown—, most of them in protective bubbles. The other, in the middle, has photographs and files in different colour's schemes, Cameron and Walsh are sitting across from Malfoy while skimming some of them. Harry clears his throat to make his presence known.

"Auror Potter," Malfoy says by way of greeting. "Aurors Cameron and Walsh are reading the files prepared by the International Confederation of Wizards' Auror department. There are some clues, but we haven't found anything new for weeks, that's why we decided to partner with the British DMLE."

"Who's been leading the investigation?"

"MACUSA, mainly. The son of a ministry employee was cursed after buying a watch." Malfoy pointed to a vintage silver pocket watch. "The man almost died."

"You saved him?"

"My team, yes."

Malfoy's eyes are icy and unexpressive. Harry gulps, uneasy.

"Knocturn Alley it is!" Cameron, a short, chubby redhead says with his very deep voice.

"We already checked there." Malfoy looks at them like they are a pair of beginners and Harry gets upset by the other man's distrust.

"Yes, but we know someone who knows someone who always trades us good information," Walsh says with great confidence. Bless him, because Malfoy is not convinced at all.

"Didn't know the Ministry allowed that type of agreements. What does he ask in return?"

"Oh, nothing like that!" Cameron replies quickly, his ears very red as if he's ashamed of something. "He's an old man who's been helping Aurors since before we even started Hogwarts."

Draco raises an eyebrow sceptically but keeps himself busy moving parchments and folders around the table like he couldn't decide what to do with his hands.

"Trust us, Curse-Breaker Malfoy, we are the best at stealth and tracking. We are very good at our jobs." A confident Walsh says while standing up, followed by Cameron who nods goodbye.

"I'm sure you are." Malfoy mutters, flicking a quick glance at Harry's while the younger Aurors walk down the corridor.

Harry stands by the door.

"Hullo."

"Potter, is it too much to ask that we do our work without disturbing each other?" He says frowning.

Really? Fuck Malfoy. He sits in front of him, spine straight trying to look like he owns the place, failing miserably, Harry suspects.

"If you think I am here interested in anything else besides my job, you are wrong. I was just being polite. Now tell me the details, Curse-Breaker Malfoy."

"We already had the briefing, Auror Potter, you _were_ there. Late, but there."

However, he begins to gather scrolls, photos and folders, organizing them somewhat and brings them closer to Harry.

"They are numbered chronologically. The letters next to the numbers are the order of the investigation. Some are in Italian, some in french, but a simple translation spell should do the work."

Harry looks at them quickly and nods.

"Why are you wearing the British Ministry's curse-breaker uniform?"

The question was not part of his plan, but Harry is not exactly someone who keeps things to himself. He knows the look on Draco's face too well: the barely open mouth before closing again and the tug at the corner of his mouth, slightly to the left. Draco is trying to decide if he wants to explain or not, so Harry waits.

"Mother has not been feeling well..."

"Oh! Is she in St Mungo? Does she need anyt...?"

"She is perfectly fine, Potter, merely a cold. Told me she missed me and ask me to..."

To move back to the country. Narcissa's love for her son is well-known by now, Harry can testify that firsthand. She convinced Lucius to enrol Draco into Hogwarts and not Durmstrang for that same reason.

"For a little while. The case will take a couple of months at least. Since I'm here and the Auror Department is working on it, this uniform seemed appropriate."

Shit. Draco's back. Working for the Ministry. Next to the Aurors, same floor.

Draco is back but what about the Italian boyfriend?

Draco is back but is Malfoy now.

Just when Harry was doing fine and they were in the past.

"Anything else I can help you with, Potter?" 

Harry is standing now, gaping and looking lost. _Shit_. He clears his throat and turns to leave.

Then he stops, placing a hand in the door frame and turning to face Malfoy again, looking him in the eye. Harry Potter is tired of dancing around the subject, trying to get out of a cave but missing the path every time Malfoy pops around. He is too old for that. 

"I mean it, what I said. I am not interested in anything besides my job. " Draco nods, but Harry doesn't move.

"Draco..." 

Now or never. Let's face the music, shall we? He closes the door and breathes. Malfoy furrows and interlocks his fingers, elbows on the table, supporting his chin on his hands. He knows what's coming.

"We didn't have an easy relationship. We aren't soulmates or whatever Ron likes to call Hermione. We didn't understand each other perfectly as Neville and Luna. We didn't fall in love at first sight like Fleur and Bill. We..."

He is trailing off.

"Shit. We literally hated one another since we met as kids! We could have killed each other; we almost did a couple of times! It took a bloody war for us to speak as civilized people. We..."

Harry is speaking louder and faster now as if scared of missing the point or the opportunity in front of him.

"We argued while we flirted. Our friends became friends before us. We... we left people in pubs to go home together after one kiss and years of pining and yet we didn't admit we were..."

 _Falling in love_ , maybe before the kiss. Fun times.

"We are not perfect together, we never were. But... we were exciting and honest..."

"Bollocks! Don't talk about honesty to me, Potter!" Draco gets up from the chair, nothing calm in his face anymore, just pure loathing.

"Okay, my bad, poor choice of words. Or not. You know what? NO! Great choice of words. We used to tell each other things without a filter, trying to fix it. We were able to heal all our history and yes, I screwed up, and yes, I wanted to shag him! and yes, is one of the biggest mistakes of my life, but we used to fight us! Again and again! And this time you didn't allow me to! You asked Molly to stop me, perfectly knowing that I would trust her better judgment!"

Probably the whole Ministry knows their intimacy by now and Harry doesn't give a shit for once. Call Rita Skeeter! Stop the presses! Hold everything! Former Teenage Death Eater and Chosen One talk about their break-up after three years!

"You didn't let me apologize and walked away! WALK AWAY TO ANOTHER COUNTRY! Who does that?" 

Harry says while spreading his arms and passing around the office. 

"You manipulated the situation ... oh, don't cast a _muffliato"_ He says when Malfoy holds his wand. "Let them hear why we stopped dating all of the sudden, let The Daily Prophet know, maybe this time they'll print the truth. Do you know how much crap they wrote? Of course you know, Zabini and Parkinson's took care of that. Thank you very much, it only lasted a couple of weeks."

"I didn't ask them to and you have absolutely no right to complain since they were making me the bad guy," he huffs. "Of course they blamed me, the Death Eater that run away from the country because the Boy Who Lived can't possibly be a cheater!"

"You did run away!"

Years of pent-up anger and sadness pouring out of his body, making everything around them quiver. Magic rising through his fingers. Draco, in front of him, hurting too. Maybe is for the best they are over, but Harry needs to let him know.

"I would have fought for us, Draco, you know I would've never given up on us in spite of me being the one who ruined everything."

Tears trying to fall, words choking his throat and leaving him gasping for air, trying to get all out at once, trying to say everything he has accumulated over the years.

"And you knew and decided to do the less Malfoy thing you have done in your life and didn't argue back. We love arguing back! It's our second nature!"

They fought, then they learned to communicate. They put the wands down, they uncovered and exhibited their marks, injuries and scars, their life stories engraved in their bodies. They softened their spiky corners, heal through their shared experiences and made a home within the other.

"You walked away and I am tired of pretending the end of our relationship was all my fault."

His voice cracks. _So_ many years.

"I don't give a fuck if Pansy or Lucius think our relationship ended when I cheated. It ended after, it ended when we didn't talk about it and you well know it, because you tried to walk away from this relationship so many fucking times before... and... I don't care anymore."

Draco flinches, he did try to avoid his own feeling, he was scared. The void in Harry's chest became lighter, he starts breathing again.

Draco stays there, hands pressed over the table, mouth forming a thin line, grey eyes clouded by tears without falling, just like Harry's. Tears of anger, grief, weariness and many other emotions their bodies can't quite decide what to do about them.

"I disagree."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Of course you do! When have you ever agree with me?"

Fucking _never_.

That's what made it fun. Before.

When they learned to enjoy it. When they learned to not hurt but laugh and caress one another, to enjoy the contrast instead of fighting against it. To hold hands when bantering. To hold hands while having sex. To hold hands when people looked at them walking down Diagon Alley like they had three heads each.

To hold hands. That's what made it perfect. They were made to hold hands. Everything fell into place when they finally did.

"Yes," Draco says, very softly. "I didn't want to face that conversation and maybe we should have."

Yes. Here, in a dark office in the DMLE, aren't 30-years-old Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Here they are at 27, the day Draco left and Harry didn't chase after him.

"Why did you do it, Harry?"

 _Harry_.

"Because I am an arse. Because I could. Because he looked a little like you which is stupid as no one is like you. Because I wanted, I will not lie. I didn't think about the consequences. I am not saying it's not my fault or that I'll do it again, I've learned that lesson... I don't know why I did it, I have no excuse."

"Was that the first time?"

"Yes."

"Was that the last?"

"With Walsh? No, but that's none of your business. If anything, I'll let you know it didn't happen again after a couple of years."

"Do you regret it?"

Yes, _thousand_ times yes.

"Yes, almost every day."

"Almost?" and Draco can't help a short and soft laugh in disbelief. Harry laughs too.

"You want me to lie?"

"No."

They wait in silence for a few minutes that felt like hours, letting the storm pass. Now was Harry's turn.

"Do you think we could have work it out?"

Draco looks at him with his icy grey eyes and perfect black and white-blond lashes (like Narcissa's), pointy face softening while tugging his mouth to the left. Harry will wait.

"Maybe... yes, probably. But it was so painful, Harry. You were my safe place and I don't think I could've trusted you anymore."

A deep pang in Harry's chest. 

Draco is lying, but Harry suspects he doesn't know. He knows him too well. Old-Draco would never have trusted him again, but the Draco he fell in love with would have. He really would have, with time, patience and love. And that's what hurts Harry the most. In the deepest and most remote parts of his soul, he knows —he has always known, all these years— that they could have made it. But they didn't try.

"Yeah," Harry shrugs. "It's late now but I want to say it again: Sorry, I never meant to let you down."

Draco nods. Not because he accepts the apology, Harry thinks, but to do something besides remain silent.

"I must be the biggest bastard that you know... and the most stupid, I should've never let you go."

He regrets it. Will always do.

"You helped me learn how to forgive. You did that, Draco, not the war, never the war. You. By not giving me up to Voldemort, by apologizing to everybody, changing, loving Molly and my family... accepting love. You helped me."

Harry's voice is softer now, only for them to hear.

The storm is over. The cave's exit close.

"I wish that I could say the same, but when you left... you left the blame. It's okay now, we are okay."

_5) Acceptance_

"Strange how opening an old wound can help to heal. Curses work like that, you know?" Draco says.

They _are_ over. Maybe not okay, but over.

Harry turns around and taps the door frame lightly, gesturing the files in his hands.

"I'm going to assemble a work team for you and a strategy to find the culprits. We will work with an undercover team made up of Aurors and Curse-Breakers, probably. I also think it would be best to cross-check the data between the DMLE and the International Confederation of Wizards reports, I can do that myself."

Draco nods again, sitting down and visibly letting go of the tension in his shoulders, his eyes are a little red, but he is already fully composed again.

"My secretary will give you the details tomorrow morning. Have a good day, Curse-Breaker Malfoy." 

Acceptance, the last stage of grief.

Now is Harry's turn to walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This ff was inspired by the song 'The greatest bastard' by Damien Rice.
> 
> When I wrote "All the way through your" bed I imagined a whole story of their time together, I see the first ff like the proper one and parts 2 and 3 (maybe, I have to finish it and translate) like a mismatch of scenes. 
> 
> Here I wanted to explore how the end of a relationship affects both parts but also that they (drarry) have so-much-history: can they put behind everything else but not this? One can make big mistakes but the other one can't? What is a big mistake for them? And how bravery (HP as Gryffindor) and resourcefulness (DM as Slytherin) have good and bad aspects or outcomes.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Kudos and comments are always well received and I thank you in advance!


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